A Second Chance
by ahkurosa
Summary: Tony is staring at the barrel of his own gun. The guilt is swallowing him alive. He can fight back, but should he? He wants nothing more but to have a second chance, to take Kate's place. Rated T for language,just to be safe. alt. ver. of Twilight
1. Chapter 1

It was all his fault.

Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo stared at the barrel of his own gun.

Jenny shouldn't have had to die. Jeanne shouldn't have had to been hurt. Paula shouldn't have had end life like that. And Kate.

Kate.

A sigh escaped Tony despite himself. He tried to forget, forgive, and relieve himself of the pain of losing his partner he had loved like a sister. But somehow, he was never able to let it go. Tony had always figured that he would be the one to break Gibb's record of never losing on of his own.

But his partner had fallen, almost gracefully except for the small hole-

Nonononononononono. Tony murmured. He had enough of that in his dreams. He shouldn't have to have to watch the scene in his head when he was awake too.

The night was silent. The only thing that seemed unable to shut up was his own head. Funny that couldn't have happened two week ago, when he told Gibbs Jenny was dead. The silence, that oppressing uncomfortable, even cold, lack of conversation had screamed at him.

It is all your fault.

Picking up his cellphone, Tony dialed the number he knew by heart, only vaguely realizing the time. He allowed himself a small smile.

This was the end. Although, not the way he had expected it, it was how things were going to end.

Tony's gaze returned to the barrel of his Sig.

The nightmares, the alcohol, the guilt, the self-loathing-

Gibbs, an annoyed gruff voice shattered the silent night.

-and the pain, would finally end.

* * *

When Gibbs heard his cell ringing, he actually started rethinking of rule #3, never be unreachable. At this very moment he just wanted to disappear on the face of the world for a good night sleep. The previous day had been... Shitty. Not Gibbs' choice of words, but rather Abby's. However he fully agreed with her as his current three agents all managed to royally screw up in their own special way.

Losing evidence, using personal time on his watch, insulting Abby by questioning her results, it was a bloody miracle Gibbs hadn't strangled any of them.

If this is a damn prank phone call, I will get McGee to find the man and shoot him myself. Gibbs thought darkly as he flipped his cellphone open.

"Gibbs."

Gibbs summoned all the irritation in the world into that single syllable. Only to be answered by silence. He sighed loudly, as he was about to throw the phone when he heard another voice.

"..Boss."

It was as if a Gibbs-ON-switch had been turned on. He had thrown the bed covers off, alarmed by the faint pain in the voice, before he realized it.

"Tony? Is that you?"

"Yea. That's me."

Gibbs did not miss the bitterness in his Senior Agent's voice, but he chose to leave it for now. Something was wrong, and he didn't want to scare Tony off.

"Giving me a call in three o'clock in the morning Dinozzo? You forgot how much it hurts when I head-slap you didn't you?"

Gibbs expected a smart ass comeback.

"I.. Just..."

What he got, was a Tony at a loss for words.

"Dinozzo." Gibbs' gut was screaming at him, that something was seriously wrong. He softened his tone as he coaxed the man out of silence. "What's up?"

"I'm... sorry Boss."

The anguish was plain but about what?

"Dinozzo, what-" Gibbs closed his eyes as he realized. "Tony. I told you, it wasn't your fault. You were following orders."

"I disobey you when I think you're losing it." Tony continued miserably. "I knew something was up Gibbs. I knew.. But she told me to back off, and.. After Jeanne, I just didn't want to face her. I knew something was up Gibbs, I knew-"

"Tony." Gibbs interrupted Tony's blabbering, alarmed at the guilt that seemed to be swallowing his agent. "You were following orders. She is.. was the director of NCIS, and there was no way you could have disobeyed her without losing your job. She knew that and that was exactly what she wanted. Quit blaming yourself, I'm not going to tell you twice. She doesn't blame you."

"...But you do."

The soft spoken words struck Gibbs into stunned silence. He struggled to reply but before he could find his voice, Tony chuckled.

"It's okay Boss. It's okay."

Gibbs swallowed his anger at the damn sound of resignation of his agent's voice. He was going to tell Tony off, tell him to get his ass here this second so Gibbs could headslap the man into next week, when he heard a familiar sound that made him freeze.

"Tony," Gibbs started slowly, trying to understand what he just heard. "That sound right now..."

The sound of a safety latch of a handgun switching off-

".. I'm sorry Boss."

"Damnit Tony, NO!"

-was followed by the fire.


	2. Chapter 2

__

You. Will. Not. Die.

Anthony Dinozzo snapped awake at the touch of a hand to his face. His first move was pure instinct; his hand was about to shoot outwards-

"Whoa," Tony stopped himself just in time and stared at the girl who had obviously been crouching beside his unconscious figure. "Who are you?"

The child suddenly grinned.

"No. 'The question is, who, are you?'"

"Lion King Rafiki," Tony appreciated before answering with a dazzling smile. "NCIS Special Agent Tony Dinozzo, at your service m'lady.. Actually I wouldn't be too sure about the 'NCIS Special Agent' part if this is all a wonderful hallucination, which I'm guessing I'm right thanks to your wonderful movie reference."

"If I were you I wouldn't be so sure about the 'Tony Dinozzo' part."

"Wow, is it that bad?" Tony instinctively raised his hand to touch his head, only to be stopped by the little girl. She grabbed Tony's hand and pulled it towards herself, effectively stopping Tony. When Tony looked into the child's eyes, which were rapidly filling with tears, a sudden pain tore through his head.

_He was staring at a Sig-_his_ Sig- and he could hear the safety latch flipping off,_

"Holy crap." Tony whispered. He turned to look at the girl whose tears were now freely falling. "Did I..?"

As a cop, Tony had seen more than enough suicides and none of them were ever pretty. If you hang yourself, all your bodily fluids exit your body through, literally, every single hole in your body. If you cut your wrists, well, almost nobody hit the arteries the first time. If you shoot yourself…

Remembering the not too-pretty images he had seen at crime scenes, Tony asked, trying to hide the shaking.

"..That bad?"

"Do you remember?" The girl asked softly as she crawled under Tony's arms.

Tony stared at her tanned hair as he searched his memories. There were bits and pieces some clearer than the others. He remembered becoming the sole Agent Afloat of Seahawk after the fiasco with Jenny Shepherd. He remembered the lonely days and silent nights. He remembered that it was nearly a routine to get a glass of bourbon in one hand and his service gun in the other. He even remembered going as far as switching the safety latch of his gun off on some days.

But he did not remember pulling the trigger.

"Not.." Tony finally choked out. "Not _that._"

They leaned against each other in uncomfortable silence, before the girl asked.

"..If you could change anything, what would it be?"

Tony was grateful for the change of topic; he needed something to work his mind with, something other than the hundreds of questions racing through his head. Questions like, did he shoot himself? Did he really shoot himself? Like, did he really really-

"God, I need a headslap right now," Tony muttered.

The little girl, without hesitation, leaned sideways to headslap him. Tony stared at her in disbelief.

"I was just headslapped by a hallucination?"

"Maybe I'm not a hallucination," The girl grinned as she waggled her eyebrows.

Tony gave it a thought before answering.

"I've been concussed enough to know, hallucinations are never warm." Tony held her warm hand in his. She returned the squeeze he gave her. "What are you?"

"That's just plain mean," the girl pouted. "Not 'what'. It should be 'who'."

"Sorry, who are you?" Tony looked at the girl carefully for the first time. She had light skin, beautiful complexion and looked just like…

"Yea," She recognized the light of understanding in Tony's eyes. "That's me."

Tony felt a lump in his throat as he fingered the child's long hair. He pulled her into a hug before answering the question.

"So, will what I want actually make a difference?" He quickly swallowed the tears and slipped into his façade. "Is there a right answer? Is this going to be like Jepordy, where Alex Trebek states the rules and Ken Jennings kicks my butt?"

"Anything you want," the child smiled brightly. When the silence continued with Tony deep in thought, she cocked her head. "I thought you'd give me an instant answer."

At this, Tony raised his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she began apologetically. "I thought you'd want to change your dad."

Tony understood what the girl was trying to tell him.

Young Tony Dinozzo wished every day to wake up and find that his life was just one long nightmare. He had never thought his life could be worse, but it did when his mother had killed herself. Tony could never guess his old man's moods. One day he would drink away and act as if Tony was nothing more than a speck of dust. On other days..

"_Father please!" A ten year old Anthony Dinozzo screamed as his father grabbed him by his hair and threw him against a wall._

The drinking mood swings became worse and worse until the man finally scarred Tony for life. Tony gritted his teeth despite himself at the memory of the belt tearing through his skin and muscle. It had hurt, god, it had _hurt_.

The abnormal relationship with his family affected Tony more than he ever let on although his actions often spoke louder than words. He always kept his coworkers at arm's length, never letting them see past his flirts and jokes. He never got to close to anyone, because he didn't want to and never felt the need to. But at the same time, the reason he was moving his jobs and working along almost half of the police departments in the East Coast was because he was looking for what he instinctively needed.

And he had finally found his cure, in the small bullpit of NCIS.

_Attaboy Tony._

_Only you, Dinozzo. _

_On it Boss! Uh.. I mean Tony._

_Ah Anthony, my dear boy. I remember a time in Italy…. _

_TonyTonyTonyTony!_

_We are partners yes?_

"If I could do anything…" Tony said dreamily as he felt a sudden wave of fatigue.

The girl leaned forward so she could hear Tony's murmured answer. However upon hearing it, she frowned her dissatisfaction.

"But Tony..."

"I know." Tony answered simply. "If I change who my father was I may get the chance to have a normal, happy family along with an unscarred back. If I change who my mother was I may not have to wake up with nightmares of blood splattered along the walls. Hell my life's so screwed not even Florence Nightingale would have the patience to pick up the pieces..."

"Then your final answer is?"

Tony smiled faintly before repeating his answer, the only answer.

"I want to save Kate."

* * *

_Tony had fallen into a pleasant sleep before he shook himself awake. The throbbing in his head had disappeared but instead there was a fierce silence that threatened to gnaw his ears off. He was standing up-strange because he remembered lying down and losing conscious in the white light beside the girl-and could instinctively feel the presence of others. He slowly opened his eyes ready to access whatever danger the new situation might present._

_"...Kate?" Tony whispered, although his words were swallowed by the gust of wind. He was staring at a woman, wearing white pants and a black NCIS jacket. She was beautiful and radiating with life._

_"Wow." Kate laughed playfully. "I thought-"_

_Tony knew what was coming next._

_"-I'd die-"_

_He saw this part for every other damn night since._

_"-before-"_

_He had no time for last words, last hugs, last anything. Tony leaped forward, perfectly timing his jump, using his own body to protect Kate._

_Anthony Dinozzo was dead before he even hit the ground._

.

.

.

If you could change anything, what would it be?


	3. Chapter 3

Timothy McGee was in denial.

He stared atthe computer screen that resembled its owner; blank. It took a few seconds for the MIT graduate to realize that his computer was turned off and when he did, he automatically leaned over to turn it on.

_Told you… …looked good._

"Argh!" Timothy straightened up at the sharp pain. "Damn migraine."

He massaged his temples as he waited for his computer to fully boot. There wasn't any time for his hurting, he had work to do.

The work of finding the man who killed his teammate.

…_wouldn't believe me… Thought…look like…living dead…_

"Ow," Timothy winced. The monster migraine dug its claws into Timothy's head and refused to let go. "I.. need a Tylenol."

Although Timothy literally dug into his drawer, he found nothing. Cursing, he decided to check his teammates' desks. Surely either Tony or Kate would have something for a migraine. After all, they worked for Gibbs too.

However, when Timothy stood up, he felt his chest stricken at the sight of the two empty desks.

He couldn't remember.

"Oh God," Timothy gripped the edge of his desk so he didn't drop to the floor. "Oh God."

Timothy remembered the disbelief and horror of the sight of his coworker on the rooftop. He retched at the fact that the person he had come to care for like a family member was staring at the sky with lifeless eyes. The blood had made a dark puddle and Timothy couldn't stop looking until Gibbs stepped into his line of sight. Timothy could remember everything that _happened,_ but who did it happen _to_?

"McGee? What's wrong?"

Timothy found himself crouched on the floor. He slowly looked up and met the gentle brown eyes. Kate was in the same white pants and black NCIS jacket she was wearing hours ago.

"Kate," Timothy whispered. As happy as he was to see her, he couldn't help the dread that was filling his stomach. One of his teammates was dead, and if Kate was here… "Tony.. Where's Tony?"

"McGee," Kate asked gravely. "Don't you remember?"

"No," He vigorously shook his head. "M-my head, it's killing me. I can't think straight. I can't-"

_Don't lie to the dead…_

The headache intensified. Timothy looked for a distraction, any distraction.

"Gibbs. Where's Gibbs?"

Timothy needed Gibbs to confirm. Tony couldn't possibly be dead. Because, McGee tried to reason with himself, the word 'dead' just didn't fit the Senior Field Agent. Not unless it was accompanied with the word 'Gibbs' as well. Actually in that case 'died a mysterious death' or 'disappeared from the face of earth' might fit better (after all, Gibbs was a Marine).

"Gibbs isn't here."

"And why the hell not?" Timothy asked frustrated. He could faintly remember Gibbs telling all of them that no one was to leave the building. The Monster Migraine dug its claws into Timothy's head further. The pain was getting worse-

"He doesn't need to be here."

-and worse-

"Kate-" Timothy whimpered, but whatever he was going to say was never finished as the pain engulfed him whole and Timothy started screaming.

_His shoes clipped against the polished stone floor. Special Agent Timothy McGee listened to the echoes as he made his way to the Autopsy. He never enjoyed coming down here and usually spent a lot of energy finding one way or another to be sent down to Abby's lab instead. _

_Not this time though. McGee took a deep breath as the doors slid open to welcome him into the empty Autopsy. He'd see this one through. _

_After all, he owed his partner that much. _

"_Told you she looked good." _

_A strong hand gripped McGee's shoulder. Instead of flinching in surprise or fear at the unexpected company, McGee instantly submitted to the warmth and support it offered. _

_He wasn't alone in this. _

"_Probie wouldn't believe me Kate," Tony's hand lingered on Timothy's shoulder. "Thought you'd look like Return of the Living Dead." _

"_Did not." McGee sniffed at the gentle bantering. _

"_Don't lie to the dead McGee. Not nice."_

_Don't lie to yourself Probie. McGee heard the underlying statement the older man was trying to tell him. That there were times to toughen and suck the pain up, but there were also times to just let the hurting show. _

_McGee accepted the advice. _

"_I was a little afraid." _

"_Kid was terrified. But it took a lot of guts to come down here. Alone," Tony's voice was evident with pride. "Showed how much he cared for you.." _

_The dark circles under Tony's eyes were only one of the more obvious indications that he was in anguish. However the older man was pushing his grief aside so he could help 'his Probie' deal. And as selfish as it could seem, McGee decided-for once- to take advantage of the other agent's seniority and simply be the inexperienced green eared agent he was. _

_He grieved. _

The screaming subsided and Timothy slowly opened his eyes. It took a few seconds to be able to focus and when he did, he found his partner crouching in front of him as an adult would to a crying child.

"Kate," Timothy suddenly looked years younger with his face etched with lines of fresh pain. "You're dead."

Kate smiled, the way Tony smiled when McGee figured out what Tony had been doing at his desk. It was the knowing, it-took-you-long-enough-Probie smile.

"I know."

And just like that, the headache was gone. McGee sagged against the shelf behind him as the rest of the memories that the migraine had been keeping from him, came flooding back.

There were the long nights McGee woke up from nightmares of Kate suffering in some unreachable place, and there were even longer days when any joke or object reminded them of their fallen friend. The pain and loss after Kate's death, the first death of a co-worker, lessened with time, but it was never forgotten.

"What's happening Kate?" Timothy asked softly. "What's going on?"

"I've been given a second chance."

"Will you come back?" Timothy's eyes betrayed the flicker of hope he felt.

"No," Kate shook her head. "Not in that sense."

Timothy wanted to reach over and give his partner a hug, but she looked unusually fragile that he couldn't dare. Instead he simply looked at her with the pleading a lost puppy would have as he told her in person, for the first and last time.

"I really did like you Kate… A lot."

Kate smiled, allowing the fierce affection shine in her eyes as she answered.

"I know."

* * *

"McGee! Get the hell outta bed, NOW!"

And Timothy did. Later, he would tell himself-and others-that he responded to the urgenc in Gibbs's voice, and to rule #3, never be unreachable. However, deep down inside, Timothy would always know that he snapped awake, 'got the hell outta bed', and lunged for the phone for a more basic and primitive reason; he was too young to die.

"Here Boss!" McGee rubbed his knee he skimmed in the process of the impressive five feet leap from the bed to the phone. "Uh, it's three o'clock in the morning Boss."

"McGee,"

Timothy winced at the bite in his team leader's voice. Gibbs was in 'that' mood, the mood that not only did he not give a damn that McGee had had a nostalgic dream that he no longer could remember, but would bite McGee's head off and spit out the bones should McGee dare mention it.

"I need you at MTAC ASAP," Gibbs continued. "Contact the Skipper of Seahawk."

Timothy paled.

"What do I tell him Boss?"

"That their Agent Afloat is in trouble. That he may be in need of immediate medical attention so to get their asses moving and fast. After that-"

"Contact Bethesda and make sure the doctors are on standby, on it Boss. Boss…" McGee was pulling on his pants but he paused as he asked. "What kind of injury?"

There was a split second pause before Gibbs answered.

"…Possible gun shot wound. McGee-"

"I'll give you an update every thirty minutes. On it-"

But as always, Gibbs had already hung up on him. The two had fallen into their old patterns so easily that Timothy felt an initial rush of joy to be back to 'normal'. It was like the numerous mornings they were all waken to solve a kidnap or some other case.

Only, Timothy thought gravely. It wasn't some other case. It was Tony who had somehow gotten himself hurt on a ship that was several thousand miles away from home.

"Hold on Tony," Timothy muttered as he gripped the wheels. "We're going."


	4. Chapter 4

Abigail Sciuto quietly waited.

And her patience was rewarded. The familiar ring of the elevator stopping on her floor was followed by the 'swish' of the doors sliding open. Abby, without looking up, greeted the incomer.

"Hi Kate," Abby brushed away a tear. "They're telling me Tony's dead."

"'They'?"

Abby pointed to the computer screen that stood out against its dimly lighted surroundings. The screen flashed a picture of a young Italian who smiled like with all the confidence in the world.

"That's the official confirmation of the death of Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo," Abby pulled an evidence bag out of her labcoat pocket as she continued. "The blood from these Lapua 308 moly-coated rounds was identified to be Tony's blood. And I have his bloody clothes on that table over there. This all.."

Abby waved her arms away from herself as if to indicate the situation as a whole.

"The blood, the bullet, people, and even science! They're all telling me that Tony. Is. Dead." Abby had stood up and was positively yelling. "And you know how !"

The ex-secret service agent met Abby's angry gaze.

"He died saving me from Ari's bullet Abby."

"But that's not true Kate," Abby's anger drained from her as she looked at her friend. Kate was leaning slightly against the table with a longing smile on her lips. Seeing the pain in her friend's eyes, Abby instinctively reached out to give her a hug, but when shook her head, Abby had to bite her quivering lip to stop her tears. "We weren't able to save you Kate. None of us were."

Kate's eyes twinkled with sudden mischief.

"I guessed you'd catch on faster than McGee. Come on Abbs, don't cry. If there ever was a time for black lipstick, it would be now."

With utmost care, Abby carefully received the lipstick Kate had passed to her. It felt like when Abby was dealing with a jumpy horse, or an injured Tony; the wrong move would bring disastrous results.

There were so many things Abby wanted to tell Kate(like how much her last date bummed, or about her new tatoo) and do(like give Kate a hug that could squeeze the life out-oops bad word choice-of her), but instead Abby settled for a simple question.

"Where is this place? Well, obviously, my lab, but I meant in more like the symbolic meaning of the word because well, this place feels real but something about this place is hinky."

"This," Kate said. "Is the wonderful world of Dinozzo."

Out of all the answers Abby was expecting, that was not one of them.

"This… Tony?"

"The world is a lot more complicated then we can imagine, and there are always countless possibilities that never happen," Kate looked thoughtful as she followed Abby and dropped into an extra chair. "This is one of those possibilities."

"Am I in a different dimension 'cause I've always wanted to try that and-"

"No Abbs," Kate interrupted gently. "To be honest this world shouldn't even exist. The possibility of saving me shouldn't exist. Nobody, could have ever saved me from Ari's bullet. Ever."

"But you're here."

"Because Tony wished for it so hard, that it actually came true," Kate grinned. "At least partially."

"Partially?"

"Well, I'm not wearing a bikini am I?" Kate flashed a grin before continuing. "I mean partially, because what Tony wished for isn't going to come true. But the 'possibility' of having been able to save me now exists. Yea Abbs, you're right. It doesn't change anything for you guys. I'm not coming back… But it means everything for me."

To be missed and loved enough to break the rules of Nature itself, was more than Kate had ever asked for. The agent looked at ease as she continued.

"I am really alive here, in this world, and even if this world is full of things that never happened nor will, that doesn't matter. The fact that I'm here, alive, in this world, this moment, and able to talk to you, that's what matters. I don't even think you'll remember this because technically, this conversation, never really happened. It's just a possibility, a 'could have been', even if the Abby Scuito here, is the real Abby Scuito. Do you get what I'm saying Abbs? You may wake up and remember this as a dream. Maybe this is really just a part of a dream. Maybe not. But what this is or will become, doesn't matter."

"What's important is that we're both here," Abby smiled for the first time. "At the same time, believing that this is real, which makes it real."

"Atta girl Abby," Kate laughed. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

They spent the next few minutes in a comfortable silence. Amazingly, the overwhelming need to talk had vanished, and Abby was perfectly content with just sitting in the lab with her friend.

Abby remembered the helplessness of when Tony had passed her the bullet cases that was left at Ari's sniper nest. The science she loved and depended on did not offer the comfort it usually gave; nothing could bring their Kate back. Nothing could erase the pang of pain whenever something turned up to remind her of the secret service agent. She had thought that if she could have one more day, she'd talk Kate to death, and give her all the love in the world to make sure that Kate knew she was loved in the world she had to leave so abruptly.

"But you already know," Abby finally whispered.

Kate somehow also knew what Abby was talking about.

"Always Abbs," Kate returned the warm gaze. "Always, which is why I want you to let it go now."

There was a gentle command to the words that Abby knew she'd accept.

"You're not mad at us for not saving you Kate?"

Kate looked at the usually cheerful Goth. Abby was gripping the chair so hard that her knuckles had turned white but she didn't seem to notice. Her attention was focused only on Kate, as she waited for the answer, which came with not a single second of hesitation.

"Never was Abby. Never would be."

Silent tears rolled down Abby's cheeks but she smiled the cheerful smile for she knew Kate would want to see.

"I really liked you Kate. A lot."

Kate smiled with warm satisfaction as she answered Abby.

"I know."

* * *

Abby opened her eyes to find herself in total darkness. Her peaceful deep sleep was interrupted by the obnoxious ring of her cellphone. Pushing the cover of her coffin, and pulling herself out with ease, Abby found her cellphone in her jacket pocket.

"Hello? You've reached a very cranky Abby who has-"

"Abbs," Gibbs interrupted. "Tony's in trouble. I want you at the lab now-"

Abby was instantly awake.

"What happened to Tony Gibbs? Do we have a crime scene? Tony's not dying is he Gibbs? Oh God I don't know what-"

"Abby! Calm down. I've already called Ducky and he's going to Bethesda. Seahawk is too far from land to launch a chopper so they've changed route and they're coming home. I'll call you when anything changes, but right now I want you at the lab where I know you're safe."

"Safe? Did someone attack Tony Gibbs?" Abby screeched. "Was Tony attacked?"

"…No Abbs. I don't think he was attacked."

Abby's gut twisted horribly as she heard the very slight note of fear in her silver haired fox's voice. Something was wrong, because Gibbs should be _happy _that Tony wasn't attacked. Unless…

"Oh no…" Abby realized. "Gibbs, you're not saying…"

"You're right. I'm not saying anything until we're absolutely sure. Just be where I can reach you."

"Got it Bossman," Abby saluted although Gibbs wouldn't be able to see her. "And Gibbs…"

"I know Abbs," The determination in Gibbs's voice was fierce. "I'll bring him home."


	5. Chapter 5

Donald Mallard smiled.

During his long career and even longer life, he had had the privilege of meeting numerous remarkable people and the woman walking inside was one of them.

"Oh my dear Caitlin," Ducky stood up to greet her. "It is so wonderful to see you. It's been years hasn't it."

There was laughter in Kate's eyes after the initial flash of surprise.

"I swear Ducky," Kate took the seat on the other side of the autopsy table and received the cup of tea Ducky offered. "You're sometimes scarier than Gibbs."

"Nonsense," However Ducky seemed pleased at the compliment. "Speaking of, Jethro is the exact reason why, despite the strange memories I have of receiving news of Tony's death, knew that something wasn't quite right."

"Gibbs?"

"Well if Tony was really injured or worse, Jethro would be on my back with more persistence than a bloodhounder and badger me for every piece of information I could possibly have," Ducky continued thoughtfully. "Which brings me to realize, I do not recall any memory of Jethro 'here'."

"That's because he isn't here Ducky," Kate smiled. "He'd never be here."

Ducky raised his eyebrow.

"That would mean?"

"It's different for Gibbs, and I don't mean to imply that you guys don't care for Tony…" Kate continued apologetically. "Just… Well… Gibbs cares more."

"Jethro does have an unusually soft spot for the boy," Ducky agreed. "Yes I do understand what you're trying to say. He would never accept Tony's death, and well I hope I do not offend you Caitlin, because losing an agent is one thing, but losing a son is another."

"Gibbs would never admit it," Kate recalled the time when they had lost Tony who was chained to a throat slashing serial killer. "He'd just never admit it."

"Caitlin… I suspect Tony is behind this?"

"Yes Ducky. This is Dinozzo's doing."

"The lad was broken after your death, although he hid it well," Ducky had seen Tony support McGee in the Autopsy. "I tried talking to him, but well… His ability to avoid the truth without actually saying a single lie is quite extraordinary. He wouldn't 'let me in the loop' as Jethro would say, and I accepted that. I assumed Jethro would be the only one who Anthony would ever trust to confide in."

"And that reminds me… Ducky…" For the first time, Kate looked nervous. "I've always wanted to… Well.. About Ari-"

"It's alright my dear," Ducky responded firmly. "Caitlin, it's nothing for you to feel bad about."

"I should have killed him Ducky. But…"

"Caitlin, I seriously doubt whether you truly even had the chance. Ari was a highly skilled killer, not an opponent to be taken lightly. Your attempt to attack him would have been futile either way."

"He… didn't look evil, Ducky." Kate struggled to explain. "His eyes didn't seem like a murderer's."

"He was a manipulative bastard; he know exactly what to do and how," Ducky wisely ignored the irony of Kate's words. "I'm afraid I have to admit that even I, formed a sort of liking for the man. He was intelligent and humorous."

Kate was crying freely now, but her shoulders shook as she tried to swallow the sobs.

She could remember herself standing in this very room, wanting to slit Ari's throat if possible. Kate had never tried killing another person with a close combat weapon like a knife, but she knew the drill. It would be ugly, and may possibly scar her soul, but she would not risk the lives of her co-workers.

Or so she thought.

_They were standing close to each other, close enough for one person to hear and feel the pulse of the other's. Their breathing, like their pulses, were not in beat; Kate's fast and shallow compared to Ari's calm breaths._

_He stared down at her and his eyes seemed to pierce her soul. She felt naked, and vulnerable, and God she hated that feeling. But his eyes were neither judgmental nor indifferent. The dark shade of brown was unsettling for an entire different reason; Kate couldn't see the bottom, thus couldn't even grasp the depth of sadness that had settled into his soul. What could have possible pushed this man to such desperate measures because this man was out for destruction and would never be stopped until he destroyed everything. Or something destroyed him. _

"I thought there could be a different ending," Kate started shakily. "I thought somehow, he'd be able to stop whatever the hell he was doing and just get out of the mess and live. Smiling."

"You liked him."

"No… I didn't like him," The ex-secret service agent gave the ME a look of stricken pain. "I think I loved him Ducky, in a weird twisted way. And that was why I couldn't stab him."

_He smiled, because he _knew_ she'd never turn the knife against him again._

"And so, I had to pay the price-"

"Caitlin!" The doctor's uncharacteristically sharp tone brought Kate to a stop. The agent looked up with tear stained eyes. "The only person to blame, is Ari. And you did try to stab him! He knocked the knife out of your hand!"

_She lunged, but he was faster-and stronger. The knife was gone from her grip and clattered to the floor. _

_And then they were standing close to each other, close enough for one person to hear and feel the pulse of the other's…._

"You doubt yourself Caitlin," Ducky observed quietly. "But did the doubt start before you attempted to stab him, or after?"

_She lunged, but he was faster-and stronger. He made her feel slow in comparison but that was his intent. He would later need her doubt in her attack._

"After…" Kate answered. She turned to Ducky in realization. "After he asked me why I wasn't fast the first time, I started doubting myself…"

"Exactly my dear. You may have faltered in attacking him after he cleverly toyed with your feelings, but before that…"

"I stabbed to kill," Kate nodded. "I tried… I really did try."

"And sometimes, that's what we have to live with," Ducky made sure Kate nodded in agreement before picking up the tea pot. He started to busy himself as he stood to boil more water for tea. "Rest assured, Caitlin, that nobody would ever blame you, but your secret lies safe with me. Which suddenly brings me to remember a time I kept a secret from my fellow co-workers. I had formed, what you young lads might call, a 'thing' for a quite remarkable woman. I still remember her name, Martha-oh my…"

Ducky turned around to find Kate sitting on the Autopsy table. She had regained her composure and the agitation and panic he had seen on her face was completely gone. Kate looked like the strong and beautiful woman he knew her to be.

Except for the small hole that was forming in the middle of her forehead.

"Oh Caitlin…" Ducky murmured as he moved closer to her. In the midst of things, he had forgotten the truth; all good things must come to an end. "I am so sorry…"

Kate looked at Ducky with unwavering appreciation as she answered.

"I know."

* * *

"Duck, change of plan. I got word from McGee that they're against moving Tony. They don't think he'll be able to survive the flight to mainland in his current state."

"Oh my…" Ducky was in the middle of wearing his coat. "Jethro, you would have arranged the doctors at Bethesda to board Seahawk?"

"Cost me hell," Gibbs said as if he really cared about owing a few people favors than the welfare of his agent. "But I managed to pull some strings with Vance. And Seahawk was cooperative."

"Of course. Rather more people alive on deck than one Agent Afloat…" Ducky shook his head. "Never mind. Jethro, you called Abby as I suggested?"

"Yea Don't want her biting my head off either. Duck…"

"Of course I'll board Seahawk with you Jethro. I hope you didn't really think you'd have to ask. I need to know our Tony is in safe hands too. Now when-"

Ducky winced at the screeching of tires and sudden earsplitting car honk from outside.

"That's me Duck."

"I guessed that much Jethro," Ducky grumbled to the already dead line. "After all, who else would have such charming manners?"


	6. Chapter 6

Finally, the part everybody's been waiting for!

Disclaimer : I own nothing.

* * *

The ride to Seahawk was painfully long; a full two hours proved to be more than enough time for the demons to haunt Gibbs.

"_She doesn't blame you." _

_"...But you do." _

Had his hesitation served as a death sentence?

"It's not like you forced a gun to his head Gibbs," an imaginary Abby appeared beside him as she tried to coax him out of his guilt. "He's a grown man, he makes the decisions. Nobody could force him to do, or not do anything."

On his right, an imaginary Tony took a seat.

"That's bullshit and you know it." Tony leaned over and whispered into Gibbs's ear. "YOU handed me the gun when you refused to talk to me after Jenny's death. YOU pointed the gun to my head when Vance shipped me off and you didn't stop him. YOU pulled the trigger when YOU. Did. Not. Say. No!"

"_She doesn't blame you." _

_"...But you do." _

"Jethro! Are you listening?"

"I didn't say no Duck," Gibbs looked up to meet his friend's worried gaze. "I didn't tell him that's not true."

Unfortunately, Gibb's quiet confession was swallowed by the loud propeller sounds of the helicopter. However anyone who knew Leroy Jethro Gibbs would have noticed the unusually tight grip on his coffee cup, the frequent sips and his hand which kept running through his hair; Gibbs was a wreck. Ducky took in his friend for a minute before raising his voice so he could be heard.

"Jethro! I'm sure Tony will be fine!"

But just as Ducky expected, Gibbs wasn't listening.

* * *

One day, when-or if- the pain faded, Gibbs would be able to recall the morning he boarded Seahawk without his fists curling in response to the tension he remembered. And when that day came, he'd finally notice the details, like how every marine who was in his way jumped to obey the ex-marine's snarled 'move' because of the pure command in that one word. Or that the skipper, who had stood watch on Tony as Gibbs's request, took one look at him, skipped the preliminaries and silently led him to Tony's bedside.

These minor details all passed unnoticed by the usually alert investigator because the only thought Gibbs was capable of that morning was a four lettered word.

_Tony._

And Tony was on a cot, battered, bruised, bloody, but _breathing_.

Gibbs let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Pushing away the images of bloody, unrecognizable faces, Gibbs fought the impulse to throw up at the sudden, overwhelming sense of relief. Instead he turned to the skipper who was patiently waiting.

"I appreciate your standing over him Skipper," Gibbs held out a hand which the other man took. "I'll take it from here."

"No problem Special Agent Gibbs. Just glad we didn't lose him. If we had found him in the morning he surely would have never made it," The skipper watched Gibbs wince when a nurse dabbed the particularly nasty gash on the head. "He's something special huh? I understand Agent Gibbs. I've had hundreds of men, but there's always one or two that stand out from the rest."

Gibbs swallowed a snort. 'Standing out' was an understatement. Besides, DiNozzo wasn't the kind of agent you'd find out of a couple hundred men. He was one in a million.

"I stationed my best men at Agent DiNozzo's office since we moved him here; last thing I want is NCIS yapping down my back about compromising a scene. So don't worry about it and take your time," The skipper who was about to turn to leave did a double take. "Oh, and whenever you're ready to meet his attacker-"

Gibbs, for the first time since he entered the infirmary, tore his eyes away from Tony.

"He was attacked?"

The three words were spoken with such deadly rage that the skipper actually winced. If the skipper had ever pitied criminal offenders it would be now, because the ex-marine had gone from worried sick to scorching rage in one smooth move that the only hint was his look.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not look like a NCIS Special Agent. He looked like a Marine. Specifically, a Marine with a gun.

"But Agent Gibbs, you should know-"

Gibbs held up his hand so his palm was open to the other man in a polite gesture of interruption, as his attention focused to his agent. Gibbs thought he had seen movement.

However Tony had yet to remain conscious and was still, a painful contrast to his usual extrovert self.

"Excuse me," Gibbs nodded to the skipper and made his way to his agent. His initial relief at the sight of his agent alive was wearing off and Gibbs could see there was still a lot to fear for. Tony was a ghostly white compared to the dark red-brown stains on the bandages that were discarded on the floor. The doctors and nurses Gibbs had literally dragged out of the hospital were yelling orders at each other, determined to save their patient but they allowed Agent Gibbs to stand beside the bed. For a few minutes Gibbs just stood there, taking in the sight of his agent more vulnerable than Gibbs had ever seen him in a long time.

The ex-marine was more than willing to stand where he stood if it could ensure the recovery of his agent but it couldn't. He'd have to trust the medical staff and Ducky to do their work, and Gibbs did. Gibbs would leave them to do their jobs while he took care of other things.

But just for good measure, Gibbs leaned over and ruffled Tony's hair as he quietly reminded his Senior Field Agent.

"You. Will. Not. Die."

* * *

I hope you noticed Gibbs's last line is the first line in chapter two. Meaning, Gibbs and Tony are finally in the same time line, and finally! The next chapter will be about what we were all waiting for, Gibbs and Tony. :) So,what did you think?


	7. Chapter 7

Anthony DiNozzo woke up to find himself lying down. Again. God this is getting old, he thought as he looked around.

"Did I save her?" Tony quietly asked after he found the girl who was still holding his hand.

"Yes Tony," A small smile crept onto her face. "You did."

"But I'm not dead," He could feel his pulse. As weak as it was, it was still there. "I'm not dead…. Am I?"

The girl cocked her head as she asked thoughtfully.

"Why don't you try telling me Tony? What happened?"

The agent was going to protest that that was exactly the problem; he couldn't remember. However before he could open his mouth a fragment of his memory flashed through his head.

_It was all his fault._

_Tony stared at the barrel of his own gun. _

_Jenny shouldn't have had to die. Jeanne shouldn't have had to been hurt. Paula shouldn't have had end life like that. And Kate._

_Kate. _

"The gun, I looked at the gun. It…" Tony stuttered for words. "It was pointed at me."

"Do you remember Tony?"

"No," The Senior Field Agent vigorously shook his head. "No I don't want to remember. Don't make me, please… Don't make me."

"Tony," The girl ignored Tony's pleas and gently wrapped her arms around him. "When you first woke up here, what did you do?"

_Anthony Dinozzo snapped awake at the touch of a hand to his face. His first move was pure instinct; his hand was about to shoot outwards-_

"I tried to hurt you."

"No," The rebuke was gentle but firm. "You tried to protect yourself."

"Protect myself?" Tony asked blankly. "From what?"

The girl smiled as she ruffled Tony's hair. That was the million dollar question.

"Don't you remember?"

Her words seemed to have the power to trigger his memories. Tony groaned in pain because of the vast amount of memories flooding into his mind.

"_Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo?"_

_A Petty Officer walked into Tony's office, seemingly oblivious of the time, two thirty in the morning. Tony inwardly groaned; he was caught with beer in his hand. This was so not good. _

"_And how could I help you at this time in the morning Officer?"_

_Tony purposely didn't turn around; he was still thinking what he should do. Should he glare at the officer and scare him off, or should he smile widely and offer the man a glass too? He didn't want the officer to see the sheer panic in his eyes and hoped he had succeeded in keeping his voice even. _

"_A bit late to be alone with a drink."_

_Damn he was screwed. He'd either have to talk his way out of it or outright threaten the marine, preferably the former. _

"_There's no such thing as being too late," Tony plastered a grin on his face as he swung around in his chair to face the unexpected visitor. _

"No, NO!"

_Anthony DiNozzo found his gun mere inches from his face. _

_The officer holding the gun sneered._

"_We'll see." _

"Make it stop," Tony gripped the child's thin shoulders. "Make it stop!"

_This was the end. Although, not the way he had expected it, it was how things were going to end._

_Tony's gaze returned to the barrel of his Sig._

"Why…" Tony whimpered as all his strength started to leave him. His grip on the child grew weaker and weaker as he slumped to the ground. "Why are you making me go back…?"

The girl kissed Tony on the brow after telling him why.

"For Daddy."

* * *

At the strangled cry of his Senior Field Agent, Gibbs was out of his chair with his gun in hand, ready to shot whoever the hell dared to hurt Tony when he was right beside the younger man.

"Doctor Pitt," Gibbs secured his weapon. "Tony!"

They had made it to mainland and safely moved Tony to Bethesda. Tony had to go under surgery for the stiches in his shoulder and broken collar bone but the surgery had gone well and all that was left was for Tony to wake up.

The injuries were severe but nothing permanent, Ducky had told Gibbs. The blood from Tony's head was from a cut so there would be no worry of havinga concussion, and the broken collarbone was fitted back nicely. The only problem was that Tony was already weak from lack of sleep(no surprise, Gibbs found the stashed beer), and malnutrition(Gibbs's stomach twisted horribly) so his recovery would be slow.

He'll heal _physically_ Jethro. The ME had told his friend pointedly. The ex-marine had simply nodded his understanding.

"He's having a nightmare it seems. I'd really rather not sedate him; I want him awake so we can check his state but he keeps fighting back." Doctor Pitt narrowly dodged the fist that came flying.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs moved forward to the flailing man. Tony was awake, or at least his eyes were open, but he took no notice of his boss and was trying to rip the IV out of his wrist. "Tony!"

Gibbs had no idea what was going through Tony's head, or what Tony was seeing. He was sure however, that Tony was going to hurt himself more if he didn't stop.

"Tony! Tony, it's me," Gibbs murmured reassuringly as he reached over and gripped the younger man's wrist.

The affect was immediate. Tony visually slackened as he met Gibbs's gaze.

"...Gibbs?"

The absolute trust ringing in that single utter brought a lump in Gibbs's throat.

"Yea Tony. I've got your six."

With Doctor Pitt's help, Gibbs helped Tony lie back down and he couldn't help but remember the nights he tucked Kelly in. So lost was Gibbs in his memories that he didn't notice Tony was staring at him with glazed eyes until he noticed Tony mumbling

Tony was badly hurt and drugged with painkillers and probably wouldn't even remember what he said when he woke up.

But that didn't lessen Gibbs's agony when he read Tony's lips.

_No... You haven't._


	8. Chapter 8

"Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs!"

A frantic Goth threw herself at the ex-marine who staggered under the force and her weight.

"Calm down Abbs, Tony's gonna be fine." After regaining his balance, Gibbs kissed Abby on her head. He could feel her shaking very slightly at the sight of Tony bandaged and bruised. Despite getting off on the wrong foot, Abby came to love Tony like a brother, and Gibbs often witnessed the affection his Senior Field Agent displayed towards her as well.

"Tony was out of surgery hours ago, why didn't you call me sooner Gibbs? I heard from Ducky, Tony's going to be okay right? Of course he's going to be okay, he has us to take care of him. But Gibbs, why does Tony always get shot at, or beaten up or kidnapped or all three?" Abby brushed away a tear as she leaned against her silver haired fox. "It's not fair. It's just not fair."

"Shh… Tony's still sleeping,"

The two quietly stared at their friend. Tony almost looked peaceful under the white bandages and purple bruises that began to bloom just under his right eye. Almost.

"He'll really be okay? You're not saying that to make me feel better?"

"DiNozzo'll bounce right back. You know him Abbs."

It took a few minutes of reassuring the forensic scientist and another few more minutes promising he'd call as soon as Tony woke up to send her back to her lab. Being satisfied, Abby tip-toed out of the room but only after giving her two men kisses on the cheeks.

"I sneaked out of the lab right now, but I'm almost done with processing the evidence Seahawk sent. Leroy Jethro Gibbs, I expect you to call the moment our Tony wakes up!"

Gibbs patiently watched Abby turn at the hallway corner before breaking the silence.

"She left, DiNozzo."

Tony slowly opened his eyes. He gingerly lifted his head and took in the white blankets, white walls, IV needle in his arm, and finally, his boss.

"How-" Tony broke off in coughs.

"Take it easy. Your throat should be scratchy." Gibbs helped Tony sit up with one hand as he passed a glass of water with the other. After making sure Tony drank enough, Gibbs let the younger man settle back into bed.

The deep lines of pain and fatigue etched along his eyes did not help but-Gibbs felt a flood of relief-Tony was alive. It was obvious every move resulted in agonizing pain yet his Senior Field Agent sucked it up and assessed his surrounding, sucessfully.

"Bethesda, huh? So, how'd you know I was awake?"

"You'd snore DiNozzo; people in China would hear the difference."

"I'm off the team, and now you get a sense of humor? That hurts Gibbs. That hurts."

"You were never off the team Tony," Gibbs darkened at the overly enthusiastic joking and strained smile.

Tony was faking it.

After numerous undercover operations and even more nights spent together drinking in his basement, Gibbs learned exactly how amazing his agent was in deception. Tony could change personalities and faces and discard them as if he was changing clothes. It was an impressive and useful skill as an agent, but just hell annoying at a time like this.

"Is that so…" Tony turned away to stare out the window and into the grey afternoon sky. When he realized the ex-sniper's watchful eyes were on him, Tony immediately flashed a smile. "Finally, brown land and civilization. I guess I just couldn't wait to get my butt off that ship."

"DiNozzo. Do I look like I'm joking with you?"

Tony put on an exaggerated air of inspecting his boss, looking up and down, and got a good look at his boss for the first time.

Gibbs was not a man of fashion, considering clothes as nothing more but a basic need. However he knew to dress according to social context and thus usually came to work in practical, but also appropriate apparel.

Right now, however, the man was in a sweat shirt and a pair of old jeans that had smudges of what suspiciously looked like sawdust. He looked exactly like what he was; a man who had spent the past twenty-four hours on helicopters, navy ships, and a very hard chair with nothing to drink but crappy coffee.

"Wow, you don't look good, period. Why don't you get some sleep? Okay, I'll take that scary glare as a no." Tony squirmed. "C'mon Gibbs, you don't have to stand watch like this. You miss me that much?"

"I was on a Navy ship at seven o'clock in the morning, a Sunday morning. What does that tell you?" Gibbs growled, his frustration increasing.

Anthony DiNozzo was, despite his reputation, a very discrete man when it came to personal matters. His smokescreens which consisted of stupid jokes and sexist comments usually sent most people on their way in disgust. Few ever recognized his act, fewer saw through it. Gibbs accepted the younger man's evasive manner, and usually played along. However, when there was no company, and it was just the two of them, Gibbs expected honesty. And demanded it.

"C'mon Gibbs, who died and made you grumpy?"

Without warning, Gibbs slammed his fist against the table set next to the bed, a habit he reserved only when his susptects needed a good scare. However, the younger agent barely flinched at the loud noise and even had the nerve to flash a mega-watt smile to the nurse who came scurrying in.

"You didn't really think that would work on me did you?" Tony asked tipping his head after he had reassured the nurse and sent her back.

"I don't know, did _you _really think that would work on me?" Gibbs retorted, his initial anger dying down having seen that his action did the trick; Tony dropped his act. The Italian finally looked like how he should look after being attacked on a ship thousands of miles away from home; tired and lost.

"No. Although I hoped otherwise," Tony admitted as he looked down at his hands. It was stupid of him to think that Gibbs would simply waltz himself out after what happened. "But you can't blame a guy for trying."

"I wouldn't count on that," Gibbs answered dryly as he pulled his chair closer. He casually leaned forward so as his elbow and Tony's thigh were touching. "You've just woke up from a gunshot wound and you're acting like everything's a joke. Don't have to be a genius to tell something's wrong Tony."

Tony swallowed hard at the gesture of warm support his boss offered. He suddenly remembered what Abby had said years ago.

_All you had to do was ask. _

But he didn't ask to have this conversation, especially with Gibbs. He was the man Tony lived to please, the man who gave him the love and affection he didn't believe he deserved. Gibbs was the man who would listen to everything he was saying-and wasn't.

"Boss," Tony pleaded weakly. "I don't want to disappoint you."

The genuine fear in those words ripped a part of Gibbs's soul he didn't know he had. In truth, Gibbs didn't want to force the younger man into a conversation he was so obviously avoiding; he wanted to let Tony get the rest he needed. However, it was now or never. If Gibbs didn't push it out of Tony when he was tired and vulnerable, once the Italian became stronger, he'd swallow the pain, lock it down, and throw away the key. The pain would slowly kill him from the inside. Gibbs would not let that happen to Tony, even if it meant his Senior Field Agent would hate him.

"That's not going to be a problem 'cause that's never going to happen. Look at me Tony, no look at me. Not that imaginary dust on the blanket." When the green eyes finally found him, Gibbs repeated very gently. "That's not gonna happen. Are we clear?"

No, you don't know what you're asking for. Tony thought desperately. He wanted to run or hide, or fall back into the peaceful world of unconsciousness. However the usually icy blue eyes were full of nothing but sincere concern and upon meeting them, Tony was reminded exactly why he was never able to lie to the ex-marine.

"Yea. Crystal clear."

Tony would tell Gibbs the truth, even if it meant his Boss would hate him.


	9. Chapter 9

Gibbs cut to the chase.

"Do you remember what happened?"

The Senior Field Agent suddenly feigned interest in the imaginary speck of dust on his covers again and Gibbs rolled his eyes but allowed him the time. After a few silent minutes, Tony gave in.

"Yea." He finally admitted. "Just about everything."

Gibbs looked up sharply. There it was again. That tone of utter defeat.

"Tony," Ignoring the feeling of déjà vu, Gibbs chose his words carefully. "Care to elaborate?"

The ex-marine watched the stiff agent soften at his words; he had successfully managed the tone between concern and command.

"Is he dead?"

"Double tapped in the heart," Gibbs didn't bother to try to hide the disappointment in his voice. The marine wanted nothing more but to have some 'private time' with the man but the numerous scenarios he was planning all turned to be futile when he realized the attacker was already dead. "It was a hell of a shot in your state DiNozzo. 'Hellavu shot."

Such compliments from Gibbs usually sent jaws dropping or eyes popping. Today, however, Tony simply shrugged.

"Should've never happened," he mumbled. "I was shot with my own gun Gibbs."

"It happens to everyone at some point," Gibbs pointed out. "I've been pistol whipped with my own gun before."

That couldn't be the main problem. Gibbs thought as he watched Tony fidget with his blanket. Having your own weapon turned against you was any LEO's worst nightmare but the look of utter loss in Tony's eyes warned him that there was another problem. A bigger one.

And it was.

"Somebody offered him money to kill me," Tony started slowly. "At first I thought it was my father, but then he mentioned a name…. Does an Alexander Palas mean anything to you?"

Gibbs involuntarily gripped the side of the chair. Alexander Palas was the prime suspect of Gibbs's case.

"He placed hit outs on three Marines who he claimed to have killed his son," Gibbs breathed. "We were trying to pull the case together before he fled the country."

"Palas obviously needed more time, and he could feel you closing in on him. The guy wondered how the hell he'd get the notorious Special Agent Gibbs off his case… And then he found me. On a ship that was a long way from home. Alone."

"_So this Palas guy comes up to me and gives me fifty thousand dollars in cash, and tells me he'll give me the rest if I get you out of the picture."_

"Palas wanted me to drop his case," Gibbs realized. "Because if I did hand the case to another team, it would take at least a day for them to go through all the evidence, and by then he'd have a passport to Panama."

"He actually thought killing me would catch your attention."

Gibbs tipped his head to his left as he observed his agent. According to the bitter glitter in Tony's eyes, he was serious. Hadn't all these years with him prove to the kid how much he meant to the older man?

"It worked," Gibbs informed him softly. "I handed the case over to another team before I got on the chopper. Didn't think twice about it."

For some reason, Gibbs's words only made the younger agent more bitter.

"That was unnecessary."

"That's not for you to do decide." Under normal circumstances, Gibbs would have torn him off for dare thinking that he wasn't worth it. However, the man with the pale face, gaunt eyes, and glimpse of that damn defeat from his slumped shoulders, was not the Tony DiNozzo who could fall under the category of 'normal'. "I'd be damned if I lose you because I was too caught up in a case. I'd never forgive myself, and you know it."

"And like you'd be able to live with yourself if you let a murderer get away because you were at my bedside!" Tony snapped. "He'd become another Ari. It was stupid, you know that Gibbs? You lose this guy, and he'll be sunbathing with some hot girls on the beach till he dies. It doesn't matter if he loses his company; he probably has enough money stashed in some Switzerland bank that can feed his kid's kids. You can't let that kind of guy get away, just because I'm hurt Gibbs! You should god damn know that!"

Gibbs prided himself on knowing his agents' skills in and out. It was necessary to ensure that they gave their best in the field. Tony was different though. It wasn't just about the man's skills as an agent, but Gibbs could bet his life nobody could read the Italian like he could. He could see what Tony was trying to do.

However, Gibbs would not be baited.

"Damnit Gibbs, when the hell are you ever gonna-"

"Special Agent DiNozzo."

The agent instantly stopped as his eyes narrowed in defense. Tony didn't even bother to look sorry and instead he glared at the older man, with a look that would have made many proud.

"Yes, Special Agent Gibbs?" Tony asked mockingly.

Gibbs almost sighed. The kid reminded him of Kelly when she couldn't get what she wanted. A sharp bark from her father usually brought her back to her senses, and manners but he knew Tony was different. He was used to threats and orders… and worse.

Gibbs could see the way Tony very slightly pressed himself against the bed when Gibbs reached over. Instead of the usual headslap, Gibbs gently tapped his agent's cheek. Understanding the gesture, Tony unwillingly looked at his boss.

"I'm listening…" Gibbs told his agent quietly. "But you're not talking."

As expected, the soft approach ripped apart the younger man's defenses more than any discipline could ever have. Tony's façade crumbled and Gibbs could see he was right. Behind all the forced smiles and jokes, the irrational and sudden anger and resentment, Tony was in pain.

Gibbs reached over, gently gripped the agent's knee and was, for the second time in twenty four hours, pleased at the immediate effect; Tony took a deep breath as he regained control of himself. The ex-marine silently waited until his agent was ready.

"He took my Sig," The green eyes carefully met the unfaltering blue ones. "And I didn't stop him."

_Anthony DiNozzo found his gun mere inches from his face. He had left his gun on the desk across the room because he felt he needed the gun out of his sight. _

_That same gun was now pointed at him._

_However, the man was no pro killer; it was necessary to pull down the safety latch so the shoot could be made instantly. Either that, or stay out of the target's reach so the target couldn't get a chance to strike back. _

_The man did neither. _

Gibbs's eyes clouded in confusion as he took in what Tony said.

"You… You didn't fight back?"

_There was an opening. It would take the man –at the very least- a second to pull the latch down and Tony could use that precious second to throw himself towards the man. They would fall to the floor together and Tony might be able to wrestle the gun out of the man's grip. _

_But should he?_

"No," Tony agreed. "I didn't."

_Tony simply stared at the barrel of his own gun. _

"Why Tony?" Gibbs asked softly.

"_Well I'm not complaining," The officer laughed as he tightened his grip on the gun. "He'll pay my debts off if I get the job done. So I'm sorry, but you're gonna have to die." _

_Tony finally looked at his attacker. His eyes were glazed as if he just recognized the man who was holding a gun to his head. _

"You know why."

Gibbs felt himself crumbling at the weight of Tony's words. Surely, this was a lie….

But Tony's steady gaze confirmed the truth and the raw pain in his agent's eyes pleaded Gibbs to admit it.

A parent should never have to say this to his child. Gibbs thought wildly as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Gibbs…"

"You didn't fight back," The wavering in the older agent's voice was slight, but there.

"No, I didn't."

Gibbs met Tony's gaze.

"You wanted to die."

"_There's no point in looking at me," The officer shrugged. "I want you dead." _

_Tony simply smiled._

_This was the end. _

_"_Yea," Tony closed his eyes but couldn't stop the tears that started to fall as he finally admitted to the man, who loved him more than he loved himself, the horrible truth.

"I wanted to die."


	10. Chapter 10

During the long nights on Seahawk, Tony had wondered what Gibbs would do when he found out. The guesses varied, starting from Gibbs headslapping him into next week to Gibbs simply taking his gun out and shooting Tony on the spot. What Tony hadn't imagined was reality being, by far, the worst.

Utter silence.

Tony used the moment to blink away fresh tears and waited for the heavy silence to end.

The inside of Gibbs's head, on the other hand, was actually far from silent. It was screaming hundreds of questions and for the first time in his life since he became a NCIS agent, he did not know where to begin.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a man who was used to death. As a Marine, as an agent, and as a father, he had lost loved ones. Although the pain from losing someone is never something one can get used to, Gibbs believed a person could become numb enough as to be able to ignore it. And he also believed that he was second to none in that particular ability.

Maybe, however, he wasn't as numb as he thought himself to be.

The fact that he nearly lost Tony, the mere _possibility_, made Gibbs's blood run cold. It was different from their being Federal Agents who spent every day facing one danger after another. In the field, the danger was from rouge Petty Officers who refuse to give up, or mass murderers with kitchen knives and Gibbs would lay down his life for Tony if he had to, to protect his boy from such people. But this was different. How was he supposed to protect Tony, from Tony?

"Boss?"

Gibbs realized he had been gripping the edge of Tony's bed sheet. He met his agent's frightened eyes and fought to keep his calm.

Pulling the younger man into his arms and never letting go will not solve the problem, the rational voice in Gibbs's head told him. Yet another voice, or rather his gut, screamed at him, _why are you just sitting there_? It was an endless game of tug-of-war.

For better or for worse, the rational voice won.

Gibbs decided to focus on the one thing that did make sense.

"But the bruises and injuries… You couldn't have gotten those if you hadn't fought back," Gibbs observed quietly. "You let him take your gun, but you must have struggled at some point. What changed?"

To Tony's relief, there was no desperate pleading or pointless denial. His Boss didn't try to deny the truth or offer cheap comfort along the lines of 'you were just confused and forgot how much we love you'. It was killing Gibbs to admit it-if the clenched fists or tired lines in his face were any clue- but Gibbs did it, for Tony.

"It all changed," Tony glanced up at Gibbs. "When I called you."

"_We need something that'll make your guy drop the case faster than you can say Panama. Don't you think listening to his former teammate shoot himself will do just the trick?" _

_Tony's eyes narrowed in annoyance, not at the idea of his fake suicide but because of the use of the word 'former'. _

"_That's not true." _

"_No, actually it is," The Petty Officer continued, having misunderstood Tony's response. "You can't suddenly get murdered the day before Palas tries to leave the country because, well, Feds aren't _that _stupid. So here." _

_Purely out of reflex, Tony snatched item the man threw towards him. It was a satellite phone. _

"The moment I saw that phone, I knew it really had to do with you and that the Petty Officer wasn't pulling my leg," The amusement in Tony's eyes were plain. "I mean, this Palas guy had the money to buy and discard the newest satellite phone model like it was a pack of gum, and the guts to send a hit-out on a federal agent on a military ship. Who else but you could piss that kind of guy off?"

"One person does come into mind." Gibbs replied dryly.

Tony allowed himself a smile at the compliment before continuing.

"And, as the Petty Officer so politely requested, I called you."

_Picking up his cellphone, Tony dialed the number he knew by heart, only vaguely realizing the time. He allowed himself a small smile._

_This was the end. Although, not the way he had expected it, it was how things were going to end._

_Tony's gaze returned to the barrel of his Sig._

_The nightmares, the alcohol, the guilt, the self-loathing-_

_Gibbs, an annoyed gruff voice shattered the silent night._

_The pain, would finally end._

Gibbs darkened at the memory of the previous night.

_"..Boss."_

"_"Tony? Is that you?"_

_"Yea. That's me."_

_"Giving me a call in three o'clock in the morning Dinozzo? You forgot how much it hurts when I slap you didn't you?"_

_"I.. Just..."_

_"Dinozzo.. What's up?"_

_"I'm... sorry Boss."_

"_Dinozzo. What-? Tony. I told you, it wasn't your fault. You were following orders."_

_"I disobey you when I think you're wrong. I knew something was up Gibbs. I knew.. But she told me to back off, and.. After Jeanne, I just didn't want to face her. I knew something was up Gibbs, I knew-"_

_"Tony. You were following orders. She is.. was the director of NCIS, there was no way you could have disobeyed her without losing her job. She knew that and that was exactly what she wanted. Quit blaming yourself, I'm not going to tell you twice. She doesn't blame you." _

_"...But you do." _

"When you didn't answer," Tony whispered softly. "I… It…"

When Gibbs saw the wetness in Tony's eyes he wanted nothing more to _explain_, that the silence wasn't confirmation of anything but just a stupid mistake on Gibbs's end. However, Gibbs did not say a word and simply waited because Tony deserved to have his say, and Gibbs deserved whatever hateful remark came his way. Because, this wasn't about his pain. It was about Tony's.

"I honestly don't really remember what happened right after that," Tony finally continued once more in a steady voice. "The pain… It burned so bad that I couldn't take it anymore. I let go."

_He heard himself say that it was okay, but what was supposed to be okay again? Tony closed his eyes in confusion. The strange pain that burned inside him distracted any coherent thoughts. _

_Where was he? What was he doing here? Who was he talking to on the phone? And who was this man who was pointing a gun at him? _

"I may have actually been a bit insane," Tony chewed the insides of his cheek. "The sounds and colors were all just blurred together and nothing made sense. Except I knew I was smiling."

_It didn't really matter anymore because he was at peace; the man standing in front of him was obviously going to pull the trigger for him, something he tried to do for months. The peace acted like a layer of ice on the surface of his feelings, locking any other thought under it._

"And then I watched him pull the latch down. I knew what was going to happen but I didn't think I'd have to stop it. All I wanted was for the pain to disappear."

_The Petty Officer could sense the complete lack of resistance and smiled at the thought of his victory-and the money he'd be receiving. As he pulled the safety latch down, he heard the agent on the phone yelling for the man who was now going to die. _

"But the funny thing is, I suddenly heard my name," Tony ignored the aching coming from his shoulder as the pain killers started to wear off. "Everything else was a blur, but I heard one voice, that called my name."

"_Tony, that sound right now..."_

"And that voice just shattered the silence and peace."

_The urgency in the voice that was calling him penetrated his defenses and infiltrated his peace within seconds. Like an infectious disease, the voice contaminated his silent world that was protecting him, ripping it down and dragging him back to reality. _

_"Damnit Tony, NO!"_

"I couldn't let him kill me," Tony whispered. "Not with you screaming my name like it was the most important thing in the world... I could give up on myself but I couldn't give up on you."

It wasn't the first time; Tony still remembered the day under the blue lights. Every breath was a fight for life and the coughs that came tumbling out didn't give him a second to breath. It was a struggle that Tony was losing; he felt himself quietly slipping away from the lights and voices.

All until the gruff order brought him back.

Hearing Tony admit his feelings, Gibbs could finally understand what was wrong. He tipped his head to the side as he quietly inquired.

"Is that why you hate me Tony?"

The pale green eyes widened in surprise.

"What?"

"Is that why you hate me Tony?" Gibbs repeated calmly, never once taking his eyes off his agent.

"Boss," Tony stared at the team leader. "What are you talking about?"

Tony was an astounding undercover agent. Bluntly said, Tony was an amazing liar. However, the mix of complete confusion and alarm in Tony's eyes told Gibbs the agent wasn't faking it this time.

Tony really didn't know.

"You're angry at me Tony," Gibbs gently pressed. "You're pissed at me for holding you back."

"No Boss," Something flashed through Tony's face, too quickly to read. "I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"NO, I'm NOT."

"Yea, Tony, you are."

"NO I'M NOT!"

At the angry cry, nurses had rushed in and were pushing Tony back into the bed to stop him from tearing his stitches. Having heard the shouts, Doctor Pitt also hurried inside and assessed the situation; a screaming patient and a very calm visitor.

"Agent Gibbs, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Two milligrams lorazepam IV!"

However, during the entire time the nurses and doctor came in, Gibbs did not take his eyes off his agent. The ex-sniper acted as if he did not hear the doctor's order and answered his agent.

"Yes you are."

Tony exploded.

"YES I AM! You stopped me from letting go! I was so close Gibbs, SO CLOSE!" Tony struggled under Doctor Pitt's steel-like grip as he fought to keep eye contact with his team leader. "The pain was finally going to end but you stopped me. When you were the one who pushed me that far in the first place! When you were the one that shoved me off the edge!"

Gibbs silently endured the deeply settled rancor that came pouring from his agent. If it would make his agent feel better he'd listen to it forever, but the drugs had begun to take effect and the normally powerful agent was helpless under his doctor's grip.

"I hate you…" Tony whimpered as he struggled to fight the powerful rush of drowsiness. "I hate you for holding on… Gibbs… for not letting me go…"

The twitch in the ex-marine's mouth was the only hint of his excruciating pain. Yet he did not say a single word in his defense.

"I hate you…" The words were slurred but loud and clear. "I hate you…"


	11. Chapter 11

Tony knew it was night without having to open his eyes. It was one of the things he picked up during his nights on Seahawk; the nightmares never allowed him more than a couple of hours of sleep at a time and Tony couldn't walk up to the deck every time to see if morning was on its way. After a couple of nights, Tony started to notice the stillness in the air, a hollow emptiness only the night offered.

Though tonight, it wasn't completely empty.

When Tony heard the footsteps approach, every part of him- bone, muscle, even fiber- instinctively relaxed before he could properly realize who it was. His drugged brain was struggling to remember the name as a hand reached over and gently brushed the hair away from his closed eyes. Tony leaned into it-the coarse but soothing touch.

It was Gibbs.

_I hate you…_

_Oh God_, Tony groaned as realization dawned. _What have I done?_

"Tony? You with me?"

Gibbs, having mistaken Tony's sudden groan for pain, was about to reach for the emergency button.

"I'm okay," Tony forced himself out of his sluggish state and weakly grasped his boss's wrist. "Seriously, the pain killers are still doing their jobs."

The ex-marine assessed his agent for a few seconds before nodding. Sleeping for almost half a day had done his agent some good; the color had returned in the Italian's face. With a little more sleep and fattening up, he would be back to normal.

Well, he'd be back to normal as long as Gibbs could do something about the nervous glitter in his agent's eyes.

"You made me vent."

Tony didn't bother with the preliminaries.

"Well DiNozzo, you can't always have all the fun."

His boss's sense of humor only deepened the lines of trouble between Tony's brow.

"I didn't mean it."

Tony hated the way it sounded, pathetically weak. It didn't matter whether he meant it or not because what was said was said and couldn't be taken back. However after all his boss did for him, standing there taking all the misdirected hatred and vehemence, Tony couldn't _not _say it either.

"You should."

The sincere response took Tony by surprise. He searched Gibbs's eyes before asking slowly.

"Does that mean you blame me?"

The reason Gibbs had failed to say anything hours back, when Tony was still on Seahawk and Gibbs was still in bed, was because Gibbs had been-although he'd never admit it-terrified. Some time after Jenny's death, an imaginary Tony started to keep him company during the nights in his basement. The imaginary Tony was nothing like its original, being angry, and resentful and very enthusiastic in showing it. Gibbs's hallucination-or embody of his guilt, whatever worked- never failed to hiss the same question every night.

_Do you blame me? _

The imaginary Tony he could ignore, or at least drink away, but when the real Tony-all flesh and bone-accused him of the same sin, Gibbs couldn't snap out of his guilt fast enough.

_Does he know?_ Gibbs had wondered wildly with sickening fear. Did Tony know about the nights Gibbs spent drowning himself in alcohol, wishing the reality away? Did he somehow know that Gibbs spent every single night trying to blame a man who was not at fault, for a pain that could not be eased? Did Tony know how much of a coward the man he looked up to actually was?

Gibbs had panicked. However his hesitation had cost Tony dearly and he would not let that happen again.

"Even if I could Tony..."

He had honestly tried. With three bottles of bourbon and a resentment towards the world that had yet taken another person he loved, Gibbs, with all his might tried to hate Tony. The Italian should have been there when Jenny was in the shoot-out; it was his job, the reason he was there in the first place. It didn't(or shouldn't) matter what Jenny said to get Tony to back off, because he still should have stood his ground. After all, he was the one person who brushed Gibbs's glare without a second thought when he believed he was right. He should have talked himself in or talked Jenny out it. But he didn't.

So Gibbs came to the conclusion that he did blame the ex-cop. Thus he figured Vance had made a smart move; the time apart would do both of them some good, giving them time to cool off because Gibbs did not know it he'd ever be able to forgive Tony and accept him back into his life.

He believed so. He really did.

All until he found himself glancing at the stairs of his basement, waiting for that same man.

"Even if I could…" Gibbs repeated wincing in frustration. He was not a man of many words, a fact all his ex-wives would vouch for, and it was always a struggle to put things in words so they sounded what they meant.

Jenny was his lover. Tony was family. Neither could ever take the place of the other. It was simple, at least to Gibbs, and it was up to him to get that message through.

"Tony…"

Whatever Gibbs said did not have the power to make everything better. What Gibbs wanted to say would not change the fact that Jenny was dead, Tony was suicidal, and Gibbs was mourning for them all.

But he still had to say it.

He couldn't.

But he had to.

"Sorry Tony," Gibbs finally sighed. The younger agent's head jerked up in surprise.

"Sign of weakness."

"Not between friends," Gibbs reminded his agent. He paused for a moment, before adding, almost ruefully, "Or family."

There, he said it.

For once the ex-sniper didn't try to hide his emotions under his well practiced mask of indifference. He needed Tony to see and understand_, _feel and_ realize,_ how much he cared for him. The Italian stared back at Gibbs with an expression of clear surprise… then confusion… then a strange mixture of emotions Gibbs couldn't quite grasp. The silence stretched to minutes but Gibbs kept his ground. If he had been paying more attention, he would have realized his hands were in tightly clenched fists.

"Gibbs," Tony started finally. "I have a family."

Gibbs's heart sank.

Anthony DiNozzo had been Gibbs's partners for a number of years that was bested by only a few, if not none. Ducky and Abby had a longer history with Gibbs, but they didn't work on the field with him, not like Tony. And if Gibbs ever needed information from a stubborn terrorist or blown-up computer, he would choose David and McGee respectively, but when it came to the agent to have his six, it was Tony. David and McGee were capable and trustworthy, but it wasn't the same implicit, almost blind faith he had in his Senior Field Agent. To Gibbs, Tony was family and the ex-marine had always thought Tony felt the same way.

_Obviously I flatter myself._

Gibbs thought bitterly, unable to ignore the overwhelming disappointment and hurt. He was so engrossed in his own self-pitying thoughts that he almost didn't realize Tony was still talking.

"It's not your orthodox family. I have two sisters I never want to piss off because one can kill me without leaving any evidence and the other can kill me and then destroy the evidence," When Gibbs's eyes lightened in realization Tony offered the older man a small smile. "But they're there when I need them, either with a killer spaghetti dish or a hug that can make all your worries disappear…

"And then I have a little brother, the kind that makes you wonder maybe you were adopted after all because you sure as hell don't know how you could come from the same set of DNAs. I tease him, but it's all to toughen him up and he knows it-I hope. Sometimes, I just can't help myself and really tick him off but he'll hack into the Pentagon for me if I told him my life depended on it.

"I have an uncle too. You know the kind you can tell everything, and like literally everything because he doesn't make you feel like a total idiot afterwards? What's even better is that he means it when he says his lips are sealed. He never rats you out on your parents.

"And then I have this cousin, the kind you never really meet besides on family reunions. You think he's this weird geek 'cause he'll be with the adults reading a book or something and you never actually talked to him before. But if you get to know him, he's great, and really smart, noticing things you're too emotionally messed up to notice…

"Last but not least… I have a grizzly bear of a parent."

Gibbs didn't bother to hide the tip of his lips curving upwards. Tony _knew_.

"He's a real ass sometimes, wait, I take that back. He's _not_ an ass sometimes. Overall, he's like Santa, he knows things you don't know how he knows. He even knows stuff you don't know you don't know. He knows when you're not giving you best and he'll yell at you. You screw up and he'll yell at you. The man'll push you to your limit and make sure you're always on your toes. But the second you fall?" The pure faith in Tony's eyes warmed Gibbs. "He'll be there to pick you up, dust your knees, and then march off to kick whoever tripped you."

"Damn right," Gibbs growled in agreement. He couldn't deny the relief he felt as Tony regained the familiar mischievous glint in his green eyes but Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a man who finished what he started. He wasn't about to let himself off the hook that easily. "But Tony, these past weeks.. Hell, years-"

"We're even," Tony interrupted firmly, meeting Gibbs's gaze. "And no Gibbs, you can't glare me to death."

The ex-cop paused for a moment to let his words sink in before continuing.

"We're even Gibbs. For what I said to you, and for what you didn't say to me."

The man lying in bed wasn't the goofy, player everybody made fun of. He wasn't even the man who won his place in Gibbs's team through the countless brilliant, courageous (bordering absolutely stupid), deeds as an agent. He was the man, who won his place in Gibbs's heart for the moments like this.

There was no word in the human language that could come close to describe the depth of pure pride and love that coursed through Gibbs's soul.

"Alright," Gibbs accepted. He'd let it go, as would Tony. "We're even."

And Gibbs surrendered to the recognition of forgiveness given and received. The past years had left too much damage in its wake for everything to heal overnight but it was the first step in the long road of healing. It would take time, but they would be okay.

"Tony," After minutes of comfortable silence the ex-marine suddenly asked, vaguely wondering if his question would be opening childhood wounds. "In this orthodox family of yours, where's 'mom'?"

To Gibbs's surprise, Tony broke into the first genuine mega-watt DiNozzo grin since he woke up.

"Did I NOT mention that I have a grizzly bear of a par-OW!"

Watching Tony pout as he massaged the back of his head, Gibbs grinned.

Yes, they'd definitely be okay.


	12. Chapter 12

"Boss where are you? This is the longest hour in my whole entire fricken life." Anthony DiNozzo grumbled as he flipped through the limited channels the tv set offered. It was officially his last day at the hospital; Doctor Pitt had cleared him and all that was left was the paperwork. Paperwork Tony was more than capable of signing off by himself, but did not dare for a certain ex-military sniper he knew had informed him-almost cheerfully-should his agent be stupid enough to try set foot outside of his room, he'd break his Senior Field Agent's legs. "I'll be right back, says the man as he receives a phone call only to be gone for more than half an hour. Geesh, walking home myself would almost be faster."

"Did I just hear you say you wanna walk home DiNozzo?" Gibbs smirked as he strode into the room to find Tony waiting on the edge of his bed, just as he had left the agent. "Because it can be easily arranged."

"'Almost' being the key word here Boss," Tony answered smoothly before flashing a grin. "You look happy."

"A call from an old friend," Gibbs deposited his cell phone in his pocket. "You've seen his picture before."

"Ah, is he the sniper from Desert Storm?" Tony nodded thoughtfully. The worn out picture of a younger Leroy Jethro Gibbs staring at the camera with his arms casually draped around another Marine's shoulders was still vivid in Tony's memory. The Senior Field Agent would never be able to forget the confident, easy-going air of the marine in the picture, and that it was the same man Tony mustered so much personal effort into every day for just a smile.

"Yea that's the one." Gibbs carefully draped the soft leather jacket on its owner's shoulders. "Your shoulder okay?"

"Nothing a couple of beers can't fix," Tony assured. "So, is he flying out of his cozy life somewhere down south and into the States to buy you a drink or something?"

"Something like that." Gibbs glanced at his watch.. "And DiNozzo, _what did I say about your bags_?"

The Senior Field Agent, having recognized the hissed threat froze in his tracks. With his hand still outstretched towards his bag that was innocently lying beside his bed, Tony quickly checked his options and weighed his chances of winning the argument-without involving bodily harm on his half. They were slim. They were painfully, pathetically slim. Under the steely gaze of his boss, Tony straightened up.

"That you'd take them and if I tried to touch them you'd break my fingers. But Boss," Tony waggled his eyebrows. "I wasn't trying to take my bag you know. I was just stretching my poor muscles that are cramped from waiting on that small bed for almost an hour."

"Uh-huh," Gibbs decided to let it slide. "Well don't tire yourself out yet DiNozzo. You'll have to put those muscles to good use later."

The agent's eyes lightened at the meaning.

"Great, what will we be making for dinner?"

"I will be making dinner. You will be setting the dinner table."

"Fair enough. What's for dinner?"

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Anything's fine."

"Chopped cow liver it is."

"Okay, okay okay. I'll stop trying to be polite and, well fake when you know me and I know you know and you know I know you know," Tony winced. "Shutting up Boss."

"Good. Dinner will be a healthy blend of carbohydrates, dietary fiber, protein, calcium, and all sorts of vitamins."

"That sounds… lovely."

"It should," Gibbs grinned. "'Cause it's homemade pizza. Pepperoni, sausage, and extra cheese."

The bright smile that lit the younger agent's features, made all the trouble Gibbs had to go through, finding a recipie, buying ingredients in the supermarket, and making the dough, worth it. Looking years younger, Tony leaped up, pumping his fist in the air.

"Yesss! I knew there was a reason I loved you Boss!" Tony laughed. "I can't wait! I'll be in the car!"

As he watched Tony run down the hallway, Gibbs smiled with affection because the fact that Tony had not questioned his staying at Gibbs's house had not passed unnoticed. The two hadn't discussed it and Gibbs had secretly wondered when Tony would make his usual feeble attempts to refuse help and take care of himself, but for once, Tony did not object. He simply accepted the TLC his boss was willing to give him.

Due to some strange parental habit that had woken up and was kicking, Gibbs swept the empty room one last time for anything Tony might have forgotten to pack. Tony had seemed to have done a good job packing by himself and once he was satisfied, the ex-marine grabbed Tony's duffel bag by the straps and decided to leave. But at the doorframe, he turned around and with his head tipped to one side, the man stood still and listened to the TV set Tony had left on.

And then with a faintest ghost of a smile Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs walked out, without looking back.

"_This is Sarah Henderson and we have some breaking news from Panama. Alexander Palas, the multi-millionaire who was recently accused of placing hits on three USA Marines, and an attempted hit on a Federal agent, was shot an hour ago while sunbathing near his private beach house. Alexander Palas has been transported to the hospital but is said to be in critical condition..."_


End file.
